How Italians Play
by Playing-with-fire-again
Summary: Romano mets the lovely Annabelle in a bar, but she becomes a little too hazy to focus on only the date itself.


A handsome, dark Italian man walked into the bar where he said he'd met his date: a pretty young thing around 24 years old with a funny smile and puffy blond hair. The bar was high class and open, everywhere you went it smelled like cigar smoke and it burned in your nostrils. The man acted tough for his lady, but he wanted the hell out of there as soon as possible.

Still, he'd play it cool. He was young, he could handle just about anything, even the ash that threatened to swallow him whole and the meaty looking, bald bastardo that was begging him to start a fight.

He met her eye. It was time.

He straightened his suit cuffs, and strutted over to her with all the class of a young aristocrat.

"Bouna sera bella, you're looking just stunning." And she was. She was wearing a modest green dress with pale stripes, which framed her breasts just right. He found himself staring for a moment, then met her eye line, hoping she didn't catch his mistake. She got up from her stool and kissed his cheek, which made him promptly blush and wink.

"Oh, Romano…" She turned her head away and looked up at him through a frame of thick, black eyelashes. For a moment, he was at a loss for words. He cleared his throat and pulled out her stool for her, then his own. He felt every eye in the bar glare at him with jealousy. He burned with pride.

"Let me buy this beautiful lady a drink." It was a demand, but he made it into a request.

She swooned.

"I'll have a neat bourbon on the rocks." He gestured towards the bartender and repeated her order, then his own, (a white wine, as to not stain his teeth); the man gave a gruff affirmation.

"Grazie." He flashed a lady-killer smile, and she brought a hand up to her mouth and giggled. "I like a lady that knows her liquor."

"I grew up around French and Germans, what can I say?" She replied.

The bartender brought their drinks in rusty cups, but they hardly noticed. The only object of their attention was the colors in each other's eyes. They brought the glasses up to their lips, laughing and sharing funny anecdotes, but both secretly wanted the night to end in a way that was less high class, more filth. They continued this charade, but for him it was far more natural.

He was Italian, young, handsome, and swept her off her feet. She needed no more persuasion. When he slipped into his native language as they slipped out of the bar, after three or four drinks, her being wrapped in his jacket, she clenched her legs together in the hopes he wouldn't notice.

"Ah, forgive me, per favore, bella! I often forget I am not in Naples. Especially when I am surrounded by such wonderful company." He winked and took her hand.

"Romano…" She found herself whispering his name several times throughout the night. He left her speechless.

"Where to next, my lady?" He grinned, taking her hand in his own.

Her face flamed. She was sure he could see it, but his chivalry was too much, he was such a gentlemen, such a flirt, and she wanted him to just take her, oh sweet god…!

"I can't say I'm too feeling too picky."

He studied her for a moment, then it hit him. The flushed face, the shortness of breath, the clenched legs, the quietness…

She was horny, and oh… she wanted him. She gazed up at him, wanting him to understand.

He smirked. "Shall we go to my hotel, bella?"

She was surprised at his quick grasp of the situation, but didn't protest. This was her chance to have sex with a lady-killer Italian gentleman… Her core pulsed. Something about his confident attitude and accent turned her on. She couldn't wait any longer.

Once at the door to their apartment, she took a seat on the bed.

"I hope you don't mind if I make myself comfortable, Romano…"

He grinned at her and undid the buttons on his vest and white button down, revealing a tan, toned stomach. Her breathing got heavier as she watched him undress.

"Not at all, my bella. You know, in Italia, it's not uncommon for one to sleep entirely naked."

"O-oh?" She whispered, sheepish yet eager to see what he would do next.

"Si, quite common. Would you…"

He held her face in his hand, undoing the first button of her blouse-

"Like to see?"

She was panting at this point, wanting to hold his body close to hers and feel him harden as her breasts pressed against his chest. She could only nod, infatuated with his tanned body, feeling her pussy clench as he continued to taunt her in his native tongue,

"Tu hai una bella bocca per cazzo…"

(You have a nice mouth for cock.)

She felt so dizzy, god. "Roma, please, touch my body…"

"Haha. Probabilmente potrei dire nulla per farvi orgasmo, anche il proprio nome. Vuoi il modo in cui rotola fuori la lingua, sì bella?"

(Haha. I could probably say anything to make you cum, even your own name. You'd like the way it rolls off my tongue, huh beautiful?)

Annabelle, at this point, could take no more teasing, and quickly pulled down her dress to expose her bare breasts, which promptly shut Romano up. He was a man, after all.

"Now you're not the only one naked, Romano… Now you can fuck me like I need, please…"

He averted his eyes for a moment and blushed a flaming red. She was cute when she talked dirty, he thought to himself. His pants strained against his cock and she took notice, peeling off the rest of her dress and pulling him onto the bed with her.

"Fuck my tits, come on." She begged.

"If that's what the lady wants." He winked. He pulled down his pants, but not before Annabelle caught his hands as they headed for his zipper.

"Let me do it, please, please…" She whimpered.

"Uhh… of course." She didn't think he could get any redder.

She pulled off his zipper with her teeth, looking up at him as she did so. He didn't notice he was holding his breath until he let it out.

"Ahh. You're a cute little thing, bella." He growled.

She pressed her full breasts together and stroked him into hardness. She took satisfaction from his pants and groans.

"Let me feel them, Annabelle." It was an order, but a polite one.

She licked the head of his cock like a kitten and then pressed her breasts against his shaft, angling her knees on the bed just so...

"Ohhhh, hahh…" He whined, embarrassed by the sound.

"Feel good?" She smiled.

"Si, si, senora, mmm…" He growled at her, demanding more without words. She sped up, engulfing him in her tight, wet heat and he bucked his hips to meet her breasts. God, she has some huge tits, he thought.

All of a sudden, she stopped.

"How good?" She smirked. "How do these make you feel, how does my mouth make you feel?"

"Si dispone di meravigliose tette per questo. Sono in estasi. Il mio cazzo è stato fatto per essere tra le tette, posso dire."

(You have wonderful tits for this. My cock was made to be in between your tits, I can tell.)

She had no idea what he said, but was brought back down to Earth by his dripping pre cum. She whined, loving his voice and accent, and was content with that answer.

She whined heartily. If she had ever been so turned on in her entire life…

Tears formed at her eyes. She usually hated the taste of a man's spunk, but with him it was the best sustenance. She couldn't get enough, she could hardly breath, didn't notice how cramped her legs were becoming, just focused on getting more sounds out of his sexy Italian mouth.

She whined again, moaned even, and popped off his mouth. She stroked his shaft and jiggled her tits over his tip, so he was completely engulfed in her heat.

"Non ho mai incontrato una donna così sexy. Non ho mai incontrato una donna che aveva bisogno il mio cazzo così tanto."

(I've never met a woman so sexy. I've never met a woman who needed my cock so much.)

He panted this out bit by bit, and with every lick of her delicate tongue on his dick, he felt his balls tighten more and more.

"Romano, please… please…"

She mumbled something inaudible.

He opened his eyes again and stroked her hair.

"Yes, mi senora?"

"Do you wanna… wanna cum on my face? Please cum on my face."

That brought out an animalistic growl from him and he opened her lips more with his finger, started to fuck inside her mouth like a man. She adored it.

"Cazzo, io cum sul viso, cazzo. Poi ti lascerò leccare in su come un piacere. Poi tornerò il favore e diffondere le cosce, si mangia fuori con la mia lingua."

(Shit, I'll cum on your fucking face. Then I'll let you lick it up as a treat. Then I'll return the favor and spread your thighs, eat you out with my tongue.)

She wished she could ask what he meant, but at this point, his brain was too fuzzy with the sight of the female body to string together English.

"Ahhh… fuck, Anna. Fuck. Sto Cumming ora, sto venendo!"

She recogonized the most important word from that and brought her mouth from his cock so he could cum on her face, finally. She regained her breath as his body jerked, his knees shaking as he came. Sweat trickled off down his tan, muscular chest.

She felt beads of his essence spurt on her face, and hurried to get as much in her mouth as possible.

"Fuck, bella…" He sat there, huffing, trying to catch his breath quickly.

He sat up in the next couple of moments and pinned her to the bed, hands above her head.

"Let me return the favor. Let me lick you out, then fuck you _veramente buono_ , like a real man. Tell me, bella, have you ever been fucked by a real man?"

Her eyes twinkled, and she was unable to form a response. She was in for one hell of a night.


End file.
